#this is beautiful if they ever do a Beauty and the Beast themed one that's even half as pretty as this I'd scream

[tranquiltwyla]

Cinderella mirror X

[moonreader1010]

Pac: how people perceive you<3

Note: 1. take what resonates.

2. Take a deep breath. Ask your spirit guides to help you choose the pile and choose the one that calls out to you.

3. Pictures used are from Pinterest. All rights go to the original owner.

Pile 1:

She'll put you in a trance at first glance

Don't wanna fall in love, but I'll take a chance

straight up I got vision of this one picture that I saw on Pinterest a while back. It was a rabbit in an armour with some sort of spikey weapon and it said “soft but not available for mistreatment”. Very do not harm but take no shit vibes. I see major cancer placements. You can tame anyone. I keep getting beauty and the beast vibes. Like, you know how to tame people. People listen to you but I don’t see and boss employee kind of relationship but more like a goddess and her followers kind of relationship. I see you being hurt in the past. Was growing up difficult baby? Did someone hurt you? I wanna hug you right now. You are an inspiration. You are a warrior and you are so so strong and wise. I feel like we are getting away from the actual question of the reading but I feel like someone wanted me to tell you this hahah. So onto the question that how people perceive you, I think they can tell that you have been through something that changed you. Made you stronger and wiser. People definitely see you as someone who will nail the trope of “taming the bad boy” haha. But ofcourse remember that it’s not your job to fix anyone and I feel like you already know this. People see you as someone who dances in the rain, confident (lots of cards show me the theme of confidence actually), hopeful. They also see you as this boss lady (gender neutral). They see you as someone who is busy building empires.

Additional: student, business, garden, summer dresses, flowers.

Song: Dangerous woman by Wieland

Pile 2: You wear that cast so cool

And I'm in awe

A face like you've never seen before

Around

people see you as someone who is constantly moving(it could be traveling or you know, making moves generally) you are not a still entity. You are always doing something. People see you as someone who is very private and mysterious. It’s hard to know anything about you. Moon seems to be really significant for some reason. People also see you as someone who cuts people of very quickly. No bullshit kinda person. You can deal with absence but won’t take disrespect. You are an achiever. People see you as someone who is constantly trying to learn something. You are open to experiences. You walk away from a situation that doesn’t serve you and that’s what many people admire about you. Young hear and old soul is what I keep hearing. People feel like they can come to you for help and also see you as someone who is very sensible.

Additional: wood, earth signs, moon, 3, heart on your sleeves, white flowers, driving far away.

Songs for you: Ever (foreign sleep) by team sleep.

Pile 3: Baby, this is what you came for

Lightning strikes every time she moves

And everybody's watchin' her

But she's lookin' at you,

people see you as someone who works really hard. They see you as someone who is very responsible and completes tasks like a pro. They see you as a leader. Is acts of services you love language? People feel like they can always count on you. You are always there to help people. You honestly are a great leader you know? Some people seem to see you as a rival. A competition. You make people competitive pile 3. People see you as someone who is very faithful. You are almost untouchable to people. You seem to be on an entire different level that they cannot reach. People see you as someone who is smart and has a way with words. You seem like someone who would do great in negotiations and business exchange lol.

Additional: ships, sea, commerce, green,

Song for you: this is what you came for by Calvin Harris and Rihanna. (Very Rihanna energy lol)

[dinogoofymutated]

THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

    You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

    “Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

    “Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage,  licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

    “You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit. 

    “Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

    “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

    “Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

    “Logan! We were just-”

    “Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

    “I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

    “Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

[sunrise-imagines]

Hello! May I please request headcanons for both Simon and the Winter King with a S/O who’s very feminine and girly? Also a bit of a coward/ damsel in distress type? Thank you so much!

No problem! Enjoy :)

Simon Petrikov/Winter King x Feminine! Damsel! Reader

Simon Petrikov:

• To be honest, he’s also pretty cowardly, but although he isn’t as brave and strong as Finn and Jake , when it comes down to it he always puts your safety and wellbeing above all else, even his own.

• Even though he’s scared himself, he’ll try his best to be the knight in shining armor you deserve

• He’ll sit outside the dressing room in stores while you try on dress after dress, always telling you that you look beautiful no matter what you wear. To him, anything and everything looks good on you!

• Tries to help you apply your makeup, but he always gets flustered being so close to your face and might accidentally poke your eye trying to do your mascara (Sorry honey!)

• One thing he is good at is painting your nails, years of handling delicate artifacts has given him steady hands, and with enough practice he can make some pretty detailed designs

• If he sees a piece of jewelry or an accessory he thinks you might like, he’ll save up his salary to buy it for you as a gift. Eating nothing but cheap ramen and coffee for a month is totally worth it when he sees the smile on your face.

• If you ask him to get dolled up with you, he will be a little hesitant, saying that he could never look as good as you, but with enough persuading and some really good puppy eyes he’ll let you put him in a dress and some minimal makeup. Surprisingly, he finds he likes it more than he though he would!

Winter King:

• Literally a match made in heaven.

• Winter King’s whole thing is being the gentlemanly hero who swoops in to save damsels in distress like you, it feeds his ego so much.

• He’s always ready to valiantly save you from any threat, even something as simple as trying to get something off the top shelf. He’ll burst in the room shouting, “ Fear not, fair maiden! Your King is here to protect you!”

• Sometimes he’ll let Candy Queen kidnap you just so he can be the one to save you, he’s that confident that nothing bad can ever happen to you as long as he’s around.

• He is also very in touch with his feminine side, and he loves that the two of you share this!

• He’ll make matching ice themed outfits for both of you, loving how you look in those icy blues and powdery whites

• Like his voice actor BDG, he loves having his nails painted and will set up regular mani-pedi spa days for you both to relax together.

• Will make you a big, poofy princess gown and invite you to dance with him in the throne room, twirling you around like the scene in Beauty and the Beast.

• He just wants you to always feel as beautiful as he thinks you are.

[skxllz]

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 + 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who combs their fingers through lucifer's hair during any given chance. they're aware he can be a stressed out, self-pitying man who just needs some sort of release from all the baggage he carries amongst his shoulders. head pets and playing with his hair comforts him <3.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who often bakes sweets for lucifer's daughter but saves him a few ‘cause he never treats himself. surprising him with little duck-themed sugar cookies always causes the king the clutch a hand to his chest, little beads of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. don't tell anybody, but he's a sucker for your baking :).

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who has the habit of saying ‘ I love you, amor! ’ everytime they leave, or lucifer leaves, a room. it could just be momentarily and yet, it's still said — lucifer adores the act though, and his heart flutters everytime. he's never been reminded so many times of how much he's loved.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who makes pinky promises with lucifer everytime he tends to get stuck in his head. — “ I'm not going anywhere, luci. ever. ” - “ you promise? ” - “ I promise. ” — he's aware how much pinky promises mean to them, just the act of hooking their fingers around one another is enough to soothe the fallen angel's spirit.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who convinces lucifer to have father-daughter days to further repair his and charlie's relationship. he was afraid unsure of the idea at first, but was later persuaded once you showed up at his room with the blonde herself, a copy of beauty and the beast, and a promise to shower him in all of the kisses he deserves at a later date. how could he say no to that? — the night ended swell because him and charlie were hugging, babbling, in tears from the movie.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who spoils lucifer with gifts whenever they can. he's usually the one rewarding others’ with gifts, so to be the one getting presents in return was surely something. it was always worth it in your eyes to see the man you love light up like a christmas tree just from the sight of a brand new tool set to craft his rubber ducks with. he appreciated it very much and couldn't express it enough!

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who makes a mixtape of earth's greatest 70's-80's hits. they were alive during the 90's/2000's and figured good ol’ luce would enjoy songs from two very phenomenal decades! he ends up really enjoying billy joel :).

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who makes a habit out of taking polaroid pictures of lucifer when he isn't paying attention. you keep a photo album of all of the pictures to give them to him on his not birthday! it's not only to build memories, but to show you love and appreciate every aspect of him. — when you do give it to him, he ends up staring at the pictures for a good five minutes before slowly standing up and hugging you. you're stuck with the king of hell clinging to you for the rest of the night, shoulder soaked in tears of thankfulness.

❥❥❥

I could add more but this is all I could think of for now 😅

[mint-yooxgi]

Depravity - Yandere!Wolf!Bang Chan

Yandere AU & Wolf AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Bang Chan X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,024

Warnings: Establish relationship. Predator/prey dynamics, and implications of consensual non-consent (cnc). This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I honestly had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy it, too! It's feral, but sweet? At least, in my opinion lol... Anyways, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Fourteenth of The Feral Drabbles

I can smell you.

Oh, Baby Girl, knowing you’re as excited for this as I am just makes needing to catch you all the more sweeter. The pull you have on me is even stronger than that of the moon itself, and tonight, you’re mine.

I’ll admit, when you first suggested that I chase you around the woods like this, I was a little hesitant. Surprised would be an understatement, considering I thought I was dreaming again. There was no way you were letting one of my deepest fantasies come to life. Yet, here we are.

I wouldn’t want it any other way.

The mental image alone of how your eyes lit up in excitement after I agreed to this fuels every movement I make. I need to get to you. I need to have you. There’s no escaping your fate, Baby. I’ll catch up to you, and when I do, you better be ready. After all, it was you who told me to unleash the beast.

He craves you. I have always craved you. Since the first moment I saw you, I knew that we were meant to be. I did everything in my power to ensure you only ever saw the best of me, but you’ve secretly wanted me to let loose. All this time, and I thought you were perfectly content with me being nothing but a gentleman.

Oh, how wrong I was.

You seek the thrill of the hunt, too. If only I had known sooner, I would have gladly made your heart shudder as it is now while I chase you through the foliage, creeping closer with each step. 

I can hear everything, you know. I can hear the way your breath hitches with every snap of a twig. You heart stutters each time my footsteps approach you. I can tell you’re trying to be sneaky, but there’s nothing you can do that would throw me off your trail. Your very being calls to me, and like hell am I letting you slip away.

Though, I’m not unreasonable. I even gave you a head start, just like you wanted. The goal is to end in our little cabin, deep within the darkness of the woods. No one to disturb us; I can have you all to myself. 

I plan to make you scream tonight, Baby Girl; only you, me, and the moon.

Tracking you has never been easier. I’m already attuned to your every move. I have to be. I care too much about you to not know every little detail I can about the beauty I plan to spend the rest of my life with. Our story will be timeless, as will our love. I’ll make sure of it, even if it’s the last thing I ever do. I’m never letting you go, though from the way your excited giggles fill the air, I can tell you don’t want me to, either.

With every passing moment, your scent becomes stronger. I could end this quickly, but you wanted to draw this out. Besides, I want to give us a satisfactory prelude to the night I’m about to give you. You told me not to hold back, and the longer I spend hunting you, the more that burning desire within me swirls and builds.

Fuck- I can’t wait to have you spread out beneath me, naked and trembling in ecstasy. I want to see your eyes roll, and your thighs shake. I want to hear you scream my fucking name, praising the moon for bringing us together just as it has always been fated to be. I plan to take everything from you, and give everything of me in return. I won’t stop until we’re both satisfied, Baby Girl. I’ll show you just how insatiable I can be…

I’m getting closer, I can tell. I wonder if you’ll be able to see my golden eyes cutting through the darkness. You told me not to hold back, and I don’t intend to. Of course, I promised not to chase you in my true form, that’s just unfair. There wouldn’t be a chase if I did that, and I swore I would never hurt you. Though, it would be fun to see your reaction when a large, handsome wolf comes bounding up to you, only for it to shift into me in the next second.

Perhaps next time…

Just wait until you see how strong I can be. All those times I’ve held you close, I’ve cut back on how tightly my arms would wrap around you. Now, I don’t have to. You want me to lose control. You want me to claim you, just as I’ve always desired. By the time I’m done with you, all you’ll be able to think about is the way my hands feel all over your body. Your mind will be so consumed by the pleasure of it all, the only thing you’ll be able to remember is my name. My fingers will leave marks all over your skin, igniting a fire over your body just as your touch does to mine. Tonight, as with every other night, I serve you. I will always serve you.

Fuck- just thinking about the way my fingers are going to sink into your plush skin makes me quicken my pace. I want to feel you beneath me, squirming and begging for more. I want to make your hips buck into my mouth as my tongue explores every dip and crevice of you. I already know you taste amazing, but tonight, it’ll mean that much more.

Oh, Baby… I can’t wait to feel you dripping all over me. My fingers ache to be buried in that tight little cunt of yours. My lips long to be pressed against every inch of your body. A body which brings me to my knees every single goddamn time I look at you. If only you could have heard the way I whined for you when this whole thing started. I’m desperate, Baby, and you should know that it’s all for you. All because of you, and once I’ve unleashed him, there’s no turning back.

I’m going to have you fucking begging me for more as my tongue buries itself in that precious cunt of yours. I can’t wait to taste you, and have you dripping down my chin like you usually do. I want to feel your thighs squeezing around my head as I drown in that addictive nectar that flows from between your legs. I’m gonna fucking lose myself in you, just like I always do.

Hmm, I wonder how many times I can make you squirt? Five? Six? …Seven?

No matter. I plan to lose count, anyways.

I’m almost there…

With every step I make, there’s a steady crunch of leaves beneath my feet, and I can heart your heartbeat growing louder and louder. Even you can tell I’m close, and that only makes the thrill rushing through my own veins that much stronger. Once I catch you, I’m dragging your ass back to that cabin and having my way with you. There’s no escaping the monster lurking in these woods. He belongs to you, and he always will.

Oh, you cleaver little minx…

You purposely threw me off with your scent. You left a little gift for me to find, and at the giggle I can hear drifting through the air, I can still tell you’re close. Only now, I’m not holding back. My Baby is walking around these dark, cold woods without a shirt on. I can’t let you weather the elements like that alone. What type of beast would I be if I let My Girl get cold?

Your playfulness might just be your downfall.

I’m coming for you, Baby Girl. You ain’t seen nothing, yet.

Alright, then…

Ready or not, here I come…

Every sense I have is honed in on you. Your scent, your breathing, your heartbeat. I can feel you surrounding me, and even I can tell my eyes are getting darker with each passing moment. The beast is lurking beneath the surface, just waiting to come out. I can practically taste the desire and excitement rolling off of you, and it only makes me move faster.

I need to get to you. Now.

Low growls escape me, my teeth sharpening into fangs as my claws extend. I know you can hear me using the trees to propel myself towards you, leaving my marks on them just as I’m going to leave my marks all over you.

My eyes scan the woods frantically, low snarls escaping me with every breath. I can hear you. I can smell you right in front of me, yet you’re not-

My breath hitches, and I look up, a wild grin pulling at my features as pride swells in my chest.

Clever girl.

Have I ever told you that I love it when I make your heart skip a beat? You seem to enjoy it when I grin like this, but I never thought I’d get this type of reaction from you. Perhaps I should do it more often… There truly is no greater feeling than knowing the effect I have on you.

That’s it, Baby Girl, let me hear your heart race as you attempt to climb further up the tree you’re in. It’s cute that you think you can escape me now.

It takes me no time at all to race up the tree, appearing right in front of you in the blink of an eye. The way your breath hitches is music to my ears. And that spike of arousal? Divine.

I’ve got you now.

Struggle all you want, I’m never letting you go. Though, it’s quite amusing to feel you attempt to break free from my hold, even as I jump down from the tree. I always told you that I could easily carry you if I wanted to, and getting to prove that fact now only makes this moment that much more sweeter. Your body was made for me, and mine for you. See how well we fit together?

The warmth of your skin against my shoulder only makes my own heart race that much faster. Fuck, Baby- you said anything goes, but just being able to hold your ass in my hand as I carry you towards the best fucking night of our lives is making my head spin. Always so plush and soft… 

Can’t wait to have my hands all over you… 

You’ve already made me so fucking hard from all the thoughts about what I’m going to do to you. From your intoxicating scent that surrounds me, I can already tell you’re fucking dripping, too.

Do you like the fact that I’ve been stalking you around these woods without a shirt on, letting you see all of me as I hunt you down like the precious little prey you are? Do you feel the electricity between us as your bare skin touches mine? Can you feel the way you make my own heart race, aching for you inside my chest? Everything I am, everything I do… Do you know that it’s all for you? That I’ve always been all for you?

No matter. Tonight, I’ll show you. There’s not an inch of this plush body that will go untouched by me. Lips, hands, cock, tongue… everything I am is yours tonight, Baby. You’re mine, just as I am yours.

That’s it, Baby Girl, go ahead and whimper my name like that all you want. Beg for me… It’ll only makes the beast inside that much more desperate to claim you. I’ve kept him at bay while the chase was on, but as soon as we step through that cabin door, you’ll see a whole new side of me. 

I would never hurt you, though. Even I have my limits. That being said, I’m not finished tonight until you’re either begging me to stop, or you pass out from the pleasure of it all. 

Finally, the beast is going to claim his prize.

It’s you. It will forever and always be you.

[tteodoroki]

the dragon’s devotion [zhongli x creator!reader]

cw: obsessive themes, cult themes, religious themes, slight yandere themes I guess, not beta read we die like Makoto

notes: I just love the concept of Zhongli being the Creator’s most devoted follower. Idk why but it gives Gomez Addams in an unhealthy way tbh.

There is an old tale in Liyue, one that parents pass down to their children. It’s a story of love, of a being that tamed a wild beast. One where a proud dragon kneeled before his own God and in return, found love.

The Dragon’s Devotion.

That’s what the Liyue citizens called it, and it’s the name of the play that is put on every year during the Lantern Rite festival. Songs can be heard of this tale from Mt. Aozang all the way to Liyue Harbor, a true testament of the adoration and reverence that blossomed between two ancient beings. It started years before the Archon War, before the seven nations were even created. Morax, the God of Geo, and the [Y/N], the Divine Creator. In his youth, he was arrogant and insatiable, hungry for war and bloodshed. Until you descended Teyvat one day, where the Lord of Geo found you in what is now known as Luhua Pool, bathing in the crystal clear waters. It is said that your beauty and divinity brought him to his knees, where the proud God worshipped you and begged for your forgiveness for his arrogance and brash ways. Being the Divine Creator, you simply smiled and told him that you cherished and loved him. A bond was formed that day, one that soothed the beast inside the young God.

That’s the story that the public knows, anyway. You, however, are familiar with a much different, a more twisted story.

The basis of the story that today’s Liyue citizens are most familiar with is true to some extent. You did meet Morax in Luhua Pool, and he did beg for forgiveness. But you didn’t fall in love with him, at least not in the way everyone believes. That’s the version that the mortals of Teyvat like to believe in. Morax, one of the eldest and strongest Archons to exist. A proud man with an unshakeable faith, has been your most devoted follower ever since he took his first breath in Teyvat. He held you close to his heart. Everything he did, was to honor you. Even the actions he took during the Archon War, in his mind it was all done in your name. Every life taken and drop of blood spilled was for you, his beloved. His Creator.

“My Morax,” You whisper softly, your hand reaching forward to gently caress the Archon’s face. Morax knelt before you, his polearm laying at your feet. It reeked of death, the gold blade stained with the blood of your people. Your heart ached, mourning the countless lives that were lost. “What have you done?” Your voice trembles, eyes full of sorrow. Morax brings his gaze to look at you, his heart shattering at the look in your eyes. Was this not what you wanted? To be worshipped as you rightfully deserved? To be honored?

“This was all for you, my love.” He said, his golden eyes looking up at you with complete adoration. But you can see past that. In his eyes, you can see his true feelings. It’s not reverence or adoration or even love; it’s an obsession. In your naivety, you failed to see the truth in the beginning of your relationship, his growing obsession. The spark in his eyes was no longer there, in its place was a roaring fire that could not be quelled.

“Your obsession is clouding your judgement.” You say, moving your hand from his face. Morax watches your every movement with bated breath. Would you punish him for his transgressions? He will gladly take whatever you decided to do to him. In his mind, he deserved it for upsetting you. You pick up the polearm from the ground, the weight heavy and unfamiliar in your hands. You made this for him, your beloved Morax. It was supposed to protect the mortals of Teyvat, not destroy them. What was supposed to be a symbol of strength was soaked in the blood of your people.

“Punish me however you see fit, my love.” Morax says, golden hues watching you carefully as you look over the weapon you so carefully crafted him. Would you impale him with his own weapon? A fitting punishment, truly.

“No matter what you do, I could never harm you, my dear Morax.” You smile sadly, dropping the polearm to the ground. There was an ache in your chest, something akin to loss and grief. But at the root of it was anger. Not at Morax or any of the other Gods, but at yourself. This could have all been avoided if you didn’t descend to Teyvat. You would never have awoken this darkness inside of your beloved Morax if you stayed out of the mortal world.

“I fear that I have spent too much time here, in Teyvat.” You say, turning your back to the God of Geo in favor of gazing at the scenery below you. Beautiful glazed lilies bloomed around your feet, and you could faintly hear the rush of a nearby stream. You would miss this, you would miss your creations.

“What are you saying, my love?” There was an edge to Morax’s voice, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he sounded almost broken. The irony, really. The great Morax, the God of War, crumbling before you at the mere thought of you no longer gracing him with your presence.

“My time on Teyvat has come to an end. I have spent too much time in the mortal world.” You say, your voice as soft as the petals of the glazed lilies in front of you. You would miss the pleasures of gathering silk flowers and violet grass. Maybe in a few millennia you would visit again, and hopefully all of this could be forgotten.

“My love, please, don’t.” Morax pleads. He’s now standing at his full height, but compared to you he feels minuscule and insignificant. He tenderly grasps your hand with his, moving so he’s standing directly in front of you. His golden eyes, the ones that shine like the brightest cor lapis, stare at you in desperation. It’s a silent plea, begging you to stay in Teyvat, to stay with him.

You look at Morax, giving him a soft yet sad smile. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him, but you knew if you stayed with him, his obsession, his darkness would only consume him even more. If you stayed, you would be the cause of his destruction, and you couldn’t bear to watch your dear Morax destroy himself.

“Whatever it is you wish for, I swear to Celestia I will make it happen. I swear I will see it done, just please, stay with me.” There’s a desperation in his voice, panic, almost. Despite the urge that you have to wrap your arms around your beloved Morax, you hold strong. You have made up your mind, and you will leave the mortal world once more.

“My dear Morax, this is the one thing that you cannot give me.” You say, your fingers reaching out to cup his face one last time. He leans into your touch, golden eyes full of sadness.

“I will descend to Teyvat in the future if Celestia allows it. But for now, I just have but one request.”

“Anything.”

“Use your power to guide the mortals. No more bloodshed, I do not think my heart can take anymore.” You sigh, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“As you wish.” He nods. You give Morax a soft smile before leaning forward and kissing your beloved Morax once more. As painful as it was to leave, you knew you had to. You weren’t all knowing, and you didn’t have the gift of foresight, but you could sense that if you stayed, something sinister would consume your beloved Morax. In the end, this was for his safety and well-being just as it was for the rest of the people of Teyvat.

But little did you forget the main characteristic of a dragon; they never let go of what’s theirs.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 9)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: Aight y'all. This thing contains some heavy themes i guess, so this one can be skipped if you want. this part is basically a filler chapter.

This picks up one month after the last part ended.

Andddd....

Here we go.

•○🌑○•

Feyre's pov.

Feyre was walking home from her art studio, Nyx hopping along next to her. The day was beautiful, not too bright, not too cloudy. It was a perfect day to go out with her family on a picnic and simply enjoy their company and thank the mother for her blessings.

Or at least it would have been a good day for that if her family hadn't been falling apart.

Rhys had been pulling away more than ever. He had become detached from reality, drinking his days away and being locked up in his office all day. He had become more snappy than ever, yelling and throwing a fit at the smallest inconveniences.

A few days ago, he had punched and cracked a wall because his food was too hot.

Rhys was... he going mad. There was no other was to put it.

He did not want to be talked to, and if he found someone looking at him for longer than a moment, he would snarl like a wild beast. His appearance had also become... worse.

He looked so sick, like he would drop dead at any moment.

A loud gasp drew Feyre from her thoughts, and she looked down to find Nyx staring wide eyed at a spot on the ground nearby.

"Nyx?" Feyre questioned gently, trying to get his attention.

Nyx snatched his hand away from his mother's, sprinting away when Feyre tried to grab his hand again.

"Nyx! What are you doing?"

She followed Nyx, walking briskly behind him. She slowed to a stop when he did, watching as the little boy bent down.

A moment later, he drew up again, a huge, adorable grin on his face.

In his hands was a smooth, white rock. He held it gingerly, both his hands cupped, like holding it too tightly would shatter the beautiful thing.

"Papa would love this mommy."

Her heart melted and shattered at the same time.

But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that Rhys probably wouldn't care, so far lost in his head was he.

"Yes darling, he would love it."

Nyx gave her a toothy grin in return, turning back to the ground as he searched for something. He bent down again, and when he came up this time, he held a smaller rock in his hand and held it out to Feyre.

"This one is for Finnie. I will give it to him when we meet again."

Feyre nodded, plastering on a smile for the sake of her son as she agreed to meeting Fin soon.

But deep down, she knew she wished the two boys never met again. Because there were only two circumstances under which they could meet, and neither were favourable.

The first would be if Y/n returned to the night court, and Feyre knew that wouldn't happen as Y/n didn't want Rhys to mess with her or her son's life ever again.

And the second would be if Feyre left Rhys.

And she wished that it never came to that.

It wasn't that she didn't believe Y/n. At first she hadn't, but then Y/n had showed Feyre her memories, and Feyre had to believe her, no matter how much she wanted it all to be a lie. Because fabricating someone's memories was too hard and even unheard of.

Feyre told herself Rhysand's weird behaviour was only the result of heartbreak, of finding out he had another son all along.

She hoped he would go back to normal, that one day he would wake up and realise how bad his condition had been becoming, how he had been weeping and wasting away for something he could never have and throwing away everything he did have for the illusion of happiness.

As she reached the door of the river house, she wiped away all her thoughts and simply focused on getting Nyx to go to sleep. Or do anything but stay away from his father.

Rhys would probably yell at the little boy if he was in a foul mood, and Feyre simply could not handle watching her son cry.

"Hey Nyx, why don't we make cookies? Would you like that?"

Nyx nodded happily. "Yes mommy. We can do that after I give papa this stone."

"No Nyxie. Can we not give papa the stone later? Or I can give it to him." Feyre offered.

Nyx held the stone away from Feyre, shielding it with his body as he frowned. "No. I will give it to papa."

Before Feyre could try more to convince him, he ran off, climbing the stair as fast as his ittle legs would carry him.

She followed him, making as little noise as possible. Because in the past few weeks, even the littlest noises had been triggering her mate's urge to destroy everything in sight.

"Nyx! Nyx, slow down!" She whispered, frantically reaching for him. He had already reached the landing, and now ran to his father's office.

The door was slightly ajar, and Nyx pushed it open the rest of the way in his haste to give the stone to his father himself.

Feyre reached the door, her heart beating in her throat, just in time to see Nyx reach his hands up, the stone cupped in them, towards Rhys, who was staring down at the little boy, his eyebrows raised.

Rhys took the stone, inspecting it carefully before a nonchalant look crossed his features, and Feyre immediately knew that he was going to throw the rock away and either yell at Nyx or dismiss him entirely.

Feyre didn't want to see her boy sad, and so she reached out with her daemati powers and knocked on the mighty walls of the fortress surrounding Rhys's mind.

He glanced up, irritation evident in his eyes, but he let her speak to him through a small window that he created.

Please don't hurt him. Please pretend.

Rhys cocked his head, and Feyre could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and a sense of dread gripped Feyre when a slow smirk spread across Rhysand's face.

Sure, Feyre. He purred in her mind before he looked down at the little boy, who stared up at his father with a hopeful smile on his face.

"This is beautiful, my boy. Thank you so much." And with that, Rhys pocketed the rock, and Nyx giggled, turning to Feyre with the biggest toothy grin ever.

"Mommy, are we going to make cookies now?"

Before Feyre could respond, Rhysand cut in. "How about you do it with Nuala and Ceridwen? I have an important thing to discuss with mommy."

Nyx nodded, then sprinted away to the stairs, and as Feyre watched him go, the dread coiling around her heart felt like a vise.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked once Nyx was out of sight, and Rhys gestured at her to come in and lock the door. She did so without questioning him.

The moment the lock clicked shut, Rhys prowled forward, his hands landing on the sides of Feyre's shoulders, caging her in against the door. He leaned down, his hot breath washing over the side of her face as he whispered directly in her ear.

"It's been so long since we've had some alone time," A pause as he began to peel her clothes off of her. "Y/n darling."

•○🌑○•

Feyre stared at the beams of moonlight across the ceiling, tears running down the sides of her face and into her hair.

She was ashamed and disappointed in herself, and as she curled into a ball on her side, she considered peeling off her skin and setting fire to it.

She sniffled quietly, her mind refusing to think of anything but the past few hours, when Rhys had touched her, worshipped her like he were a devoted male and she a goddess.

Except hers was not the name he chanted in his prayers.

No, it was of his former lover, and for some reason, she had not been able to push him off of her or do anything to let him know she did not want him to touch her while he was lost in the thoughts of another female.

Rhys had wounded Feyre's heart for nearly half the night, and she could do nothing about it.

Worse were the way he'd rubbed salt on her wounds after the whole ordeal, telling her she was nothing compared to her. That Feyre could never be her, and that it really was a waste of time to have pursued Feyre to see if a mate was worth loosing Y/n over when he could have been with Y/n all along.

Every muscle in Feyre's body clenched as she tried to quiet her sobs so as not to wake him as he slept peacefully at her back.

Feyre didn't know what to do.

Slowly, her mind drifted to that day a month ago, when she and Y/n had talked, and Y/n had showed Feyre exactly what Rhys had done to her.

Feyre... you can come with us.

You can live with us.

Look Feyre, you are Nyx's mother. You know what's best for him. If you need time, then take some time. Think about this if you want. But leave him Feyre. He does not deserve you or Nyx.

I can't force you to come with us but... I beg you Feyre. Think about this. And when you are ready, write to me. I will ask Eris to make arrangements for your safe travel to autumn court.

Feyre sniffed, wiping her tears with her palms as her path forward became clearer.

Write to me.

A pen and paper appeared next to the bed on the nightstand, and Feyre picked them both up, scribbling down a quick message and then winnowing it away, hoping her friend was awake and found it.

Though that would be a miracle, as it was quite literally the middle of the night, and not many people stayed up crying over their pathetic lives.

But there was nothing else Feyre could do except hope, because anything else had been stolen away by her mate. The one who was supposed to never harm her.

With one last look at the sleeping form beside her, Feyre stood, gathering all her discarded clothes and pulling them on, trying not to cringe in embarassment.

Then, she grabbed a bag, stuffed all her clothes and Nyx's inside of it, especially all the expensive gowns of hers. She could maybe sell them to make a little extra money.

Just before se left her and Rhysand's room, her gaze snagged on a bundle of money Rhys stored in his drawer, and a plan formed in Feyre's mind, and her lips lifted in a small smirk.

It seemed that the meeting with Fin would happen sooner rather than later.

And that a visit to the bank was necessary.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @holb32@awoa1@cleverzonkwombatsludge@luvmoo@we-were-beautiful@eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913@j-pendragonx@thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz@esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow@bubybubsters@eos-princess@nightless@bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten@txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman@leeknows-wife@aria-chikage@amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover@kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay@acourtofbatboydreams@stained-glass-eyes0708@glaciuswduo@wallacewillow0773638@cassie6392

Y

[kinascum]

UNDER YOUR SKIN

stalker!Lee x noneater!reader

wc: 1.08k | summary: When does desire become destruction, and how far will you go to feel alive? | nav ♡ taglist

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. blood/gore. sexual themes. violence. obsession/manipulation. dark themes. cannibalistic metaphor. stalking. infliction of pain. blood drinking.

You're standing in the rain, the droplets clinging to your eyelashes and making the world blurry. You can't feel the cold, not really, because every inch of your skin is alight with the memory of his touch. You remember the way his fingers traced your spine, the gentle pressure of his mouth against your neck, the warmth of his breath in your ear. Your heart races just thinking about it, your chest tightening, your breath hitching. It's been days since he last held you, but it feels like an eternity.

You know he's watching you from the shadows, his eyes burning with a hunger that's both terrifying and exhilarating. You've seen that look before, in the moments when he thinks you're not looking, when he thinks you can't see the yearning that consumes him. You know what he wants, what he craves. And even though it should repulse you, you find yourself leaning into the darkness, craving the taste of him, the feel of his teeth on your skin. You want to be consumed by him, to become a part of the very essence that makes him who he is.

The rain starts to come down harder, soaking your clothes, making them stick to your body. You shiver, but it's not from the cold. It's from the anticipation, the tension that coils in your stomach like a living thing. You're acutely aware of every inch of your body, every nerve ending singing with the promise of pain and pleasure. You want to call out to him, to tell him to come to you, but you don't. You don't need to. He's already moving, a silent predator in the night, drawn to the scent of your desire.

You feel his presence before you see him, a warmth that pierces through the chill. He's so close now, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your skin. You can smell the coppery scent of his craving, mingling with the musk of his arousal. It's intoxicating, a potent mix that sends your senses reeling. You don't dare to turn around, not yet. You know that when you do, there will be no going back. But you want this, you want him, in a way that defies logic, that defies everything you've ever known. You want to be devoured by him, to be a part of his twisted, beautiful obsession. And when he finally does touch you, when his hands slide around your waist and pull you against him, you know you're lost.

Lee's eyes are a fiery ember in the gloom, boring into yours with a ferocity that steals your breath away. He whispers your name, the sound a dark caress that sends shivers down your spine. His grip tightens, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your neck. You gasp, the sound lost in the patter of the rain. You know he's fighting it, fighting the urge to sink his teeth in and claim you in the most primal way possible. But the battle is a silent one, a war raging just beneath the surface of his self-control. You can feel it in the tremor of his body, the way he's holding himself back. And you want to scream at him to let go, to give in to what he truly wants.

Your heart is racing now, a wild stallion in your chest, galloping towards the precipice of something you can't quite name. It's a feeling that's equal parts terror and ecstasy, a cocktail of emotions that's intoxicating and overwhelming. You lean back into him, arching your neck, silently begging for more. His breath hitches, and you know you've won. The hunger in his eyes is unmistakable now, the beast inside him straining at its leash. But instead of fear, you feel a strange thrill, a pulse of desire that matches the tempo of the rain.

His hand moves up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face towards his. His thumb traces the line of your bottom lip, and you can't help but part them slightly, inviting him in. His eyes flicker down to your mouth, and for a moment, you think he's going to kiss you. But instead, he leans in, his nose brushing against your skin as he inhales deeply. The scent of your blood fills his nostrils, and you can see the struggle in his eyes. He's torn between his love for you and his insatiable hunger. It's a battle that you want to end, a war you want to win. So you take the plunge, tilting your head to the side and exposing the delicate column of your throat. The invitation is clear, and Lee's eyes darken with a need that's so raw it's almost painful to witness.

Slowly, oh so slowly, his mouth descends, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin. You hold your breath, your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the moment when he gives in. And when it comes, it's like a dam bursting, a flood of sensation that drowns out the world around you. His teeth sink into your flesh, and you cry out, the pain a white-hot spark that ignites the kindling of your desire. You feel his tongue swirl around the wound, lapping at the crimson liquid that wells up. And as your blood mixes with his saliva, a strange warmth spreads through you, a sense of belonging that's more profound than anything you've ever experienced. You're no longer just two separate beings; you're one, connected by a bond that's deeper than mere flesh and blood.

The rain continues to fall, a cacophony of whispers around you, as Lee drinks from you, each pull sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You feel lightheaded, your knees threatening to buckle, but his arms are there, supporting you, keeping you upright. This isn't just passion; it's obsession made manifest. And as the storm rages on, you know that you're ready to be consumed by it, to be devoured by the man who has become your everything. The metaphorical cannibalism is no longer a fantasy but a reality, a shared moment of depravity that somehow feels right. Your body responds in ways you never thought possible, every nerve alight with the intensity of his hunger. And as the rain washes away the evidence of your transgression, you know that nothing will ever be the same again. The line between love and obsession has blurred, and you've crossed it willingly, eagerly, into the abyss of his dark desires.

[cupids-chamber]

MEETING LEONA'S FAMILY, he's never quite enjoyed the idea of you meeting his family, but now you'd finally get to meet your partners family members!.. surely everything will end well...?

GENDER NEUTRAL READER | [ Fluff / Un-edited ]

Sunset Savanna was much more prettier then you had expected, the beautiful and well thought out designs and structures, the many different kinds of beast-men and some humans, living their day to day life despite the wretched heat of the Savanna—You couldn't quite tell why your partner was so against the idea of you coming here for a visit, and meeting his family as well! The palace was much more different—lavish, then you had expected, it was lovely to say the least, the intricate corridors, the beautiful surroundings and location in which the grandiose living quarters were made, it was a palace fit for the Royal family…

You tried your best when greeting his family, Leona was around and though he told you not to be so uptight and more or less formal—"Listen, if ya' stress it, you'll trip and cause a scene, and I don' like it when you're embarrassed and pouty"— You couldn't help but feel the need to maintain some sort of elegant behaviorisms—Maybe it was because you wanted to leave a good first impression, or it could be the fact that you're meeting with the literal King and Queen of Sunset Savanna… It was probably the latter, after all, even if Leona was your partner and even if you did truly lik—love him—Trying to get into someone's families good graces, is much more difficult then it seems.

Not to mention, your partner always seemed.. nervous? You couldn't tell really, but it was easy to read that Leona didn't really prefer or like the idea of you meeting his family.. You are more then well aware of his sour relationship with his brother—Which may or may not be one-sided, but it does provide some ground as to why he'd dislike you visiting so much…. But even if you were nervous, you couldn't help but anticipate the idea of meeting his family..

The moment the door opened, Cheka came jumping—he was quite excited… well not necessarily to see you, but more or less he was excited to see his uncle back at home again…. Though when he noticed you, he quickly pulled you into a hug as well.. It was adorable… but Leona probably didn't feel the same way.

Contradictory to all your expectations, Leona's family was sweet beyond your wildest dreams—They treated you as if you were one of their own, telling you cute and cliché stories about Leona, when he was a child... Scolding him softly when he tried to poke in on the conversations… Wait.. They've heard about you before?.. Well you know Leona's not really the type to open up about how he feels, and what not, he's not one to really discuss about you so openly.. but the fact that he did made you happy beyond imagine.

It felt nice, you wouldn't lie… Ever since coming to Twisted Wonderland—way back.. When you were first transported to Night Raven College, you had to come to terms with the idea that your friends, family, relationships, and connections are basically nonexistent here… and although you've made many wonderful friendships here… You've always lacked a sense of familial love—Sure, your connections with your friends maybe thicker then blood, but it felt nice… Having and feeling that familial love and comfort again.

You're pretty sure Leona had noticed the shift in your mood, the way your smile cracked into a more genuine and happy smile, in the corner of your eye, you could see the small grin plastered onto his lips..

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[princesssarisa]

I think I've noticed a slight trend in the evolution of feminist fairy tale retellings. In the '90s, 2000s, and earlier 20-teens, we had retellings which obviously had feminist themes, but weren't explicitly about "women's issues." The conflicts the heroines faced were relevant to feminism, but not exclusively caused by sexism. Yet more recent re-imaginings of the same stories have been much more explicitly (and a bit ham-fistedly) about battling sexism.

The movie Ever After is obviously a "feminist" Cinderella, with Danielle portrayed as a feisty and clever action heroine, and with a contrast between her tomboyish ways and the ladylike refinement of her stepmother and stepsisters. But the conflict Danielle faces revolves much more around social class than around gender.

Then there's Betsy Cornwell's 2015 YA novel Mechanica, a steampunk Cinderella where the heroine is an inventor. This is obviously a feminist retelling too, because Nick excels in a traditionally masculine field, because she uses her inventions to take herself to the ball without the need for a Fairy Godmother, and because she has a concrete goal of freeing herself from her stepfamily by opening her own shop. In this way, she's very much like the "girlboss Cinderella" of the 2021 Sony/Amazon musical. Yet if I remember correctly, her struggles have little to do with gender. She isn't blocked from achieving her business goal because she's a woman; the problem is simply that she's trapped in an abusive home with no money or resources of her own.

Yet the 2021 musical, with its Cinderella who similarly wants to go to the ball to find a patron and start her own business, makes the whole conflict ham-fistedly about sexism. To a slightly ridiculous degree, because this Cinderella isn't an inventor of mechanics, she's a dressmaker! Weren't most 19th century dressmaking shops run by women? Yet the entire conflict is framed as "Ella's goal of a career outside the home is frowned on because she's a woman."

Then there are the two screen versions of Disney's Beauty and the Beast: 1991 vs. 2017. In the original film, apart from Gaston's claim in passing that "It's not right for a woman to read!" Belle's misfit status is framed in a gender-neutral way. Her dreamy, adventurous spirit, of which her love of books is one aspect, sets her apart from the village's simple workaday culture. Of course there's a feminist element, since she wants more from life than what's expected of her and doesn't want to be the "little wife" of a man who doesn't respect her, but the villagers would still consider her odd if she were a man. Yet the 2017 remake had to explicitly add gender issues. Here, the villagers disapprove of women being educated; only boys go to school, Belle's neighbors dislike the fact that she even knows how to read, and they bully her for teaching a little girl to read too.

It's just a little trend I've noticed.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

do you happen to enjoy fairy tales as much as (character) Miss Raven does? I got the feeling not just because of- well, you choosing that as a big characteristic on her, but also bc of how you sometimes talk about your fav characters in scenarios where they have "princely" attitudes or stuff like that HHAHSHSHSH plus I think a certain amount of that type of writing shows in your pieces (which I love!!!)

if the answer is yes, then I wanted to ask: what kind of dairy tales are your favorites? is there certain motifs you specially like?

YES 🤡 I’m super into fairy tales! One of my favorite Disney movies is Enchanted, but I also love the Shrek universe (Shrek 2 and Puss in Boots 2, my beloveds) and Ever After High before it quietly got cancelled. I listen to fairy tale-themed songs (I’d recommend Cinderella Step by Daoko; been listening to that a lot lately), read fairy tale retelling novels, collect fairy tale themed blind box toys… All of it 😭 And one of my favorite anime ever is Princess Tutu, which references a lot of classic ballet and fairy tales ✨

As I mentioned in this post, Miss Raven (the OC) is not meant to be a self-insert, but she is in part informed by my own tastes since I did create her. I injected her with my love of fairy tales, but tried to incorporate that in a way that makes sense. While she was still an actual bird, she often people watched and then daydreamed about being a part of “that world”. Her wild imagination eventually leads to this rose-colored expectations of how great “that world” is. She’s expecting a fairy tale but is then slammed with the reality that the students at NRC aren’t exactly the perfect princes she was imagining. Miss Raven copes with it by being delulu daydreaming and penning stories~

Before TWST corrupted me, I love Love LOVED princely/knightly characters… and butlers and bug brother-types still I blame that in part knowing me enjoying fairy tales so much. snvsjwbskwkekdbsk I-I didn’t realize that that kind of dreaminess bled through into my writing 😭

I think it’s pretty obvious by my blog name, but I love Alice in Wonderland for its whimsy and nonsensicalness. Many of the motifs that commonly appear in Alice (mushrooms, card suits, tea and sweets, talking flowers, clocks, white rabbits, etc.) are charming to me. It’s a big reason why I was super into the White Rabbit Fest event. Anything Alice-inspired… I’m so tempted to grab 😔 I once went to an afternoon tea inspired by this story, which was so fun! I’d like to go again someday, and this time with my TWST plushies.

Some other stories I like are Little Red Riding Hood, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, and The Ugly Duckling (though this one is more a fable than a fairy tale). I also quite like stories told in ballet, such as Swan Lake and Coppelia. If you squint at Miss Raven, you’ll notice that she has elements from each of these stories. I just really enjoy stories with themes of self discovery and/or getting lost but then finding your way. Again, this is also echoed in Miss Raven’s own growth and development journey.

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance: Chapter 26

Part 26: Duplicity

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.3k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to illegal prescription drug use, firearm use, and deception. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 26

Dark dreams pulled Steve from sleep. It was 3:37 AM according to his phone.

With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, propping his pillow behind his wife’s back in his place. She was sound asleep and that had him smiling. The night before in the bath had been delicious. He had her again later in bed.

She’d need to sleep in after that.

So much raw emotion welled up in his chest as he watched her. His wife took up a lot of room when she slept, sprawling over the bed at night. Over him. He loved it, especially now that she mostly slept nude as he did. She was beautiful, her radiance and confidence growing by the day.

As he got dressed, he kept stealing glances at her. She’d brought a hell of a lot more than just status into his life. His wife challenged him. She challenged everyone. As delicate as she appeared now, asleep in his bed, she was formidable as a lioness, especially when defending those she cared about.

Steve couldn’t wait to have children with her. How fierce would their sons be? Hell, his daughters would be fierce too. He hoped they looked like her.

Making his way downstairs, thoughts of the family he wanted faded like dreams as he reached his study, returning to reality. Wincing in the light when he flicked it on, he saw the office was just as neat and sterile as it had ever been. Steve always had strict rules about who was allowed in his study, just like his father had.

Those rules didn’t apply to his wife, he realized, who came and went from his center of business as she damn well pleased.

Those memories he loved. Holding her in his chair, spanking her over the desk. Twice. That last one had to led to him just taking her like a beast on that refined wooden surface. It had him stirring just thinking about it. Steve wanted more memories like that. He wanted more.

What would it be like seeing toys littering the floor one day? Or to have little drawings left for him on his desk?

With a deep sigh, he sank heavily into his chair.

Ever since his wife had entered his life, she’d blurred the lines between his personal life and business. Steve walked a fine line between frustration and ecstasy the entire time with her, his need for her so often consuming his thoughts.

In the meantime, everything he thought he had control of was unraveling.

Barnes was coming for him, swiftly and methodically, and he needed to deal with that before he lost respect and credibility in that dark world. The fact that his rival was getting away with hitting his turf made Steve look weak, incompetent. Barnes striking his home, his family’s home, demanded a harsh answer. His leadership of the families would be defined by the decision he made here.

But Steve also needed to protect his family. And hadn’t he done a poor job of that lately? His sister had been severely beaten by her husband and before that Clint had been shot. Hansen’s attack on their home left Belova and Dyson both laid up.

His enemies seemed as obsessed with his wife as he was. If Hansen had gotten his hands on her…

Barnes had more than adequately demonstrated that no one was beyond his reach.

That had to change.

Steve had tried to be diplomatic in calling the meeting with the other family leaders. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Why was he trying to win the other families over when at least one of them was gunning for his?

“Up early, boss?” Luca looked in, making Steve realize he didn’t remember to close the door.

Steve nodded.

The portly cook walked just inside the office door. It was the only time of the day he ever saw the man in a pristine white apron.

“Your father used to do the same thing. Couldn’t sleep the night before. He’d just get up and get started. Always admired that about him.”

Steve snorted. “Probably never found himself in a situation this fucked up.”

“Sure he did,” Luca told him. “Someone challenged him, he hit them hard, and he hit them fast. That’s all. No mercy. No regrets.”

Luca made it sound so easy.

“You got a new consigliere yet?” Luca asked.

Steve nodded. “I’m going with Murdock.”

Luca nodded his approval. “Good choice. We’ll see what he’s made of these next few weeks.”

That was an understatement.

“I’m calling a meeting this evening,” Steve told him. “If I remember right Dyson’s going to get medical tests this morning?”

“That’s right,” the cook said. “Him and Belova both. They should be back from the hospital by this afternoon. We sending Scott with them?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll be here all day. Send Neal.”

Luca nodded, closing the door behind him on the way out of the office.

Steve would spend some time getting his thoughts together. Then, with his crew, they’d decide how best to deal with Barnes.

***

Dyson smiled when she made her way from the exam room back out to the waiting area.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Yelena smiled back. “The CT scan didn’t show any damage. They also did a Brain Trauma Indicator test, but it will be a couple of days before we get the results of that.”

Dyson rose from his chair, and she hoped that meant they were ready to head back to the house. While she took some comfort from the fact that Mrs. Rogers’ husband was there with her – and she had Scott, Luca, and Clint – things were just so tense right now. So dangerous.

She would feel much better once she got back.

Dyson shrugged as they walked out of the office area to head back into the reception area of the hospital. “I’m just old.”

He laughed with her as they found the lobby where there were gift shops, a cafeteria, and an information desk. Neal sat not far from that desk with the paper in his hand. So much for being there to keep her and Dyson safe. He looked like he could really care less.

Neal couldn’t have cared less when Bruce Banner had been about to knock the shit out of her boss. Scott pulled Mrs. Rogers back but that wouldn’t have stopped him. And she was still cursing herself for not hearing the commotion sooner than she did.

Neal noticed the two of them a beat before they reached him. Dyson cleared his throat loudly, telling Yelena he was as unhappy with the soldier as she was.

“Ready to go?” Neal sounded bored.

“Yeah,” Dyson grumbled. “Go get the car, will ya?”

Yelena was hard put not to laugh as Neal glared at him, folding up the paper. His knuckles were white as he gripped that paper and marched toward the exit to do as he was told.

Just as he was walking out the electric doors at the hospital’s entrance, a familiar figure in teal-colored scrubs was walking in. Agnes spotted Yelena in an instant, smiling brightly.

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

Of course Neal recognized her, slowing down and glancing over his shoulder to get a good look. He would remember she came to the Rogers’ home. He’d already mentioned thinking she looked familiar. It wouldn’t be hard for him to put the pieces together and figure out why she really came that day.

It was the worst timing imaginable.

Dyson didn’t know either, so she had to fake a smile when Agnes walked up. It wasn’t her fault, and Yelena talked to her for moment. Her ID badge announcing her position as an RN was right there in plain sight.

“Let me know when the lady of the house needs another manicure,” Agnes said, a big wink and then she headed off to work.

Beyond the glass entrance, she could see Neal pulled up to the door in the car. She felt Dyson’s attention on her. She took a step but his hand on his shoulder stayed her.

“That’s the lady you brought to the house to do Mrs. Rogers manicure?” he asked.

Yelena nodded. “She does it as a side hustle,” she tried.

“She’s an RN according to her badge,” Dyson pointed out.

She shrugged, turning to meet his gaze. “So? She does a good job. Mrs. Rogers was happy with how her nails turned out.”

Yelena tried to continue walking. This time Dyson jerked her to a halt.

“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did,” he said, dead serious.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Yelena played dumb. She wasn’t counting on it to work but she had to try.

“Yes, you do.” Dyson blew out an exhale.

Yelena shook her head. “Mrs. Rogers is perfectly healthy. What other reason would I have to bring Agnes to the house?”

“To make it so Mrs. Rogers don’t get pregnant,” Dyson said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Oh, my God. Do you know how bad this is?”

Yelena didn’t deny it. But she didn’t drop her gaze. The deed was done now. What did he expect her to say?

“Did she put you up to this?” he asked.

Now her heart slammed on her chest. If she said yes and this went as badly as she suspected it was about to, Yelena would have betrayed Mrs. Rogers. And she couldn’t live with that.

But if she said it was her own idea, and it most definitely was, she jeopardized her own position. And Lloyd was still out there. And Dyson knew it.

“Fuck,” Dyson muttered a little too loudly. “You know Neal recognized your nurse friend, right?”

She wasn’t stupid.

“The trick here is to keep him from telling the boss what he thinks happened here,” Dyson explained. “And he’ll think exactly what I think.”

Now Yelena was seeing red. “I know he’d like nothing better than getting Mrs. Rogers in trouble with her husband.”

She could tell Dyson didn’t expect her to say that, but it was the truth.

“When Banner showed up at the house, the only one protecting her from him was Lang,” she insisted. “I was down there as soon as I heard the commotion. Neal? He would have let Banner have her.”

Now the older man looked appalled. “Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Because he doesn’t like Mrs. Rogers,” Yelena said. “And he doesn’t appear to have her best interests at heart. That puts her in danger because the boss trusts him implicitly.”

“Neal’s earned that,” Dyson replied.

“So much so that the boss should choose him over his own wife?”

Dyson shook his head. “Come on.” He motioned towards the car with Neal watching them from the driver’s seat. “I got to try and get to the boss before Neal does or there will be absolute hell to pay.”

She was all too afraid he was right.

“He’s going to ask if there was a problem,” Dyson instructed her. “When he does, you act pissy. I’ll tell him you didn’t get one of the tests I wanted you to. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sending up every prayer she knew, Yelena followed him out to the car.

***

You made it back to your room, still winded because you’d practiced for nearly two hours today. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you removed your pointe shoes, the band-aids and tape beneath. You winced at the fresh blister forming on the outside of the smallest toe on your left foot.

What you’d planned to wear the rest of the day was already laid out on your bed, you just needed undergarments and socks and you’d be ready to shower. You smiled when you opened the drawer where you kept your intimates to see the satin red thong there that went with the teddy you bought in New York for Valentine’s Day last week.

Well, Steve bought it for you after surprising you in the city when you thought you’d catch holy hell for being out of the house.

What a night that had been. Your heart still fluttered to think about it.

The hum of your phone on your bedside table got your attention. Maybe it was Yelena. You hoped her and Dyson’s medical tests went well.

The text was from Yelena, but it stopped you in your tracks.

I'm so sorry.

You stared at the text message from Yelena on your phone, wondering what the hell that meant. Your heart was sped up as you typed a reply asking if she and Dyson were okay.

You heard voices beyond your window. Peering out, you saw the black Jeep had pulled up, watched your husband climb out and march towards the front door. You hadn’t realized he left the house, but he sure seemed on a mission to return to it.

We are fine. I’m worried about you.

What?

Her next text came a beat later.

Neal figured out who Agnes is.

You froze in place. Holy shit. If Neal knew who Agnes really was, he had an idea of why she came to your house. And if he didn’t figure it out, Steve would.

Telling Steve would be the first thing Neal would do with that information.

Steve’s tread was loud on the stairs, pounding in time with your heart. Steve was coming and you had nowhere to go, no time to prepare.

The door of your shared bedroom flew open, and Steve slammed it behind him, his face flushed from the cold, from anger. His blue-eyed gaze found you fast, and there you stood in leotard, leggings, and bare feet. You were sweaty, tired, with your hair pulled back from your face.

As much of a sweaty mess as you were, your husband looked as well-groomed as always. He peeled off the leather jacket he wore and tossed it over the chair at your vanity. The deep wine of the sweater he wore with jeans emphasized the angry color seeping out of his collar.

Dropping your phone on the edge of your bed, you folded your arms across your chest, bracing yourself for the storm that was coming.

Steve took in your stance. A muscle at his jaw flexed.

“We need to talk,” he said with a tight voice.

You just nodded. What else could you do?

You calm demeanor only seemed to piss him off more.

“Tell me about your manicure a few weeks ago,” Steve demanded, moving closer to the bed.

You held your ground. You didn’t like the way he was trying to set you up.

“I already did,” you said. “You said you liked my nails. Remember?”

His scowl deepened. “What was the woman’s name?”

“Agnes.”

“And was this manicure your idea?” Bitterness crept into his tone.

It was hard to hold your tongue. That question put you on the spot. If you said no, and you were pretty sure you told him Yelena arranged it to lift your spirits, he would get rid of her. And you needed her. As your friend and as a protector.

That meant you had to take the blame. And you weren’t sure you were ready for the consequences of that…

“It was,” you said finally. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was the course you chose.

Steve paused, surprised at your admission. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, just staring at you.

“She did more than your nails.” Steve shook his head. “The injection is good for three months, right?”

Wait. Agnes said that there would be no medical record of the injection. Had she lied to you? Or did he…?

“How do you know it was an injection?” you had to ask.

“Neal paid Agnes a visit at the hospital today.”

Steve knew everything.

“What did Neal do?” You were seeing red now. “Agnes isn’t in this. If he hurt her...”

“Neal warned her,” Steve told you.

Neal was intimidating. The poor woman just came to do you a favor.

“Neal is good at subduing women,” you told him. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he wasn’t so quick to protect me when Banner stormed in this house,” you said. “Scott pulled me away. Yelena saved me.”

“Don’t try to shift the blame for this to Neal,” Steve said. “Neal has proven his loyalty to me.”

“I’m not one of your men,” you shot back. “I’m your wife.”

“And a wife’s duty is to give her husband a family. To take care of that family.” New emotion entered his voice. He wasn’t just angry. “Why? Why would you go behind my back and do this?”

You shook your head, frustration welling up in you fast. Was he serious?

When you didn’t say anything, he charged forward, grabbing your chin in his large hand. His grip hurt as he pulled you to him by your face.

“You know what I want,” he said angrily, his face inches from yours. “Every time I’ve made love to you, I was hoping that was it. That was the one. And it would only be a few weeks after that when you’d be waiting here for me for a different reason. To tell me I was going to be a father.”

When he shoved you away from him hard, you stumbled back. The bed was right behind you, and you tumbled onto the edge of it.

“But here we are,” he growled.

Your own temper flared at that. You were going to be punished for this. You knew that. You weren’t going meekly. You weren’t just handing him a victory like he’d been handed everything else in his goddamn life.

“Here we are,” you said. “And once again, it’s all about what you want. About what you expect.”

“Enough!” he yelled. “This is the part where you remind me that you had no choices. I know. Your father hid you away and then I forced you to marry me. And I’m sorry, I truly am, that he didn’t even try to be a father to you.”

The venom in his voice told you he wasn’t trying to make you feel better. Steve’s fury was palpable, you could feel it coming off him in waves.

“Want to know what I regret?” Steve asked. “I regret that he didn’t try to prepare you for the world. He should have taught you your place.”

You would have agreed with him if you hadn’t been so angry yourself.

“No, he did just what he was supposed to, according to you. He didn’t spend time with my mother, or my brother and I from what I hear. She tried to get us out of your world.”

“She found a lover.” Steve moved closer. “If she hadn’t done that, maybe she and your brother would still be alive.”

Jumping off the end of the bed, you marched forward and slapped him across the face with all your strength. It was satisfying to see his head turn with your blow, but he was quick to recover.

“I wasn’t prepared,” you told him angrily. “I haven’t been married before. I never had a lover before. You’ve had many. You’ve had time to enjoy life and learn what you like, what you want. You’re at a place in life where you want to start a family. I haven’t had that time or experience. What? I was just supposed to spread my legs and pop out babies because that’s what you wanted?”

“You didn’t have a lot of experiences in your life,” Steve pointed out. “I considered it an advantage.”

You snorted. “I’m sure you did.”

“Somehow all of this lack of experiences wasn’t a problem until you married me,” he said.

“Is that what you thought?” you asked. “I’d go from being his hidden little girl to your dutiful wife? That just makes you naïve.”

Scrubbing a hand over his beard, Steve stared you down. “You might have a point there. I was naïve in just letting you run free in this marriage. Letting you do what you wanted.”

“I’ve asked for so much,” you shot back, sarcasm bleeding into your tone.

“I gave you the bodyguard you wanted,” Steve snapped. “I had to find out she was training you with weapons when Hansen attacked my home. You hid that from me. I allowed it. Now I find out you hid your little contraceptive shot from me. I can’t trust you. What else have you hidden or lied to me about?”

Steve was right. You had hidden things from him.

“What is your problem with starting a family?” he wanted to know. His gaze swept over you. “What else are you going to do? You’re fit. You could probably have children and get right back in shape after.”

“So I’m vain?” you asked.

“Are you?” Steve asked. “You’ll have the best doctors, the best care. You can hire personal trainers if you're worried about your figure. We can hire people to help you with them once they're born. Nannies, tutors. Whatever you want.”

Now you were staring him down. “Don’t you know how that sounds? You want us to be parents and you’re already planning on how to let other people raise them.”

“Excuse me?” That pissed him off.

“I had all of that,” you said. “Nannies, tutors, governesses. What I didn’t have was a good relationship with my father. I didn’t have a mother or a sibling because of your world. I’m not saying I don’t want children one day. But I’d like to reach the point you have where I’ve lived a life and I’m ready for that.”

“Did you ever think of trying to tell me that? I thought we were finally on the same page. That we wanted the same things. You let me believe that,” he said bitterly.

“Would you have listened?” you asked. “And maybe I did let you believe that I could pregnant. But I was afraid. How could I enjoy sex when each time I was worried that would be the one? And I’d be pushed into something I wasn’t ready for. Responsible for a child.”

The hurt showing on his face surprised you. “You enjoyed sex with me because you knew you weren’t going to get pregnant?”

Your heart lurched. You felt like so much was riding on your answer, and you were angry.

But it was truth, damn it. Hiding things was how you got here.

“Yes,” you said slowly. “I would hope you’d understand why. I wasn’t even familiar with sex. I just wanted time.”

“You just wanted to take control away from me.” Steve’s glare made you pause.

“I thought you wanted me to trust you? You said you hoped one day this marriage would be something I needed too.”

“I thought you loved me,” he said with a finality that had fear spiking in you.

Faster than you could blink, Steve snatched your phone off the bed and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. The speed of his movements had you flinching. He noticed.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sounding way less confident now.

“Taking control of my household,” he said coldly. “Just like I’m getting ready to take care of business with the families. What do you think I’m doing?”

You swallowed hard. Steve’s gaze on you was assessing. He could read you so easily.

“Thought I’d spank you?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’d enjoy that.”

Humiliation had your face heating up, remember the last one that you’d provoked.

“I should have done this from the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” you had to ask.

Steve moved back, putting a distance between you.

“Your injection is good for another four weeks,” he said. “We’ll resume our marriage then.”

What?

“Resume our marriage?” Your voice pitched higher than you would have like. But he caught you off guard. “What does that mean?”

“That means when that shot has reached the end of its efficacy, I’ll be back. Until then, you’ll stay in this room. My men will bring you meals and anything you need for toiletries and supplies. But that’s it.”

Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Your men?” You had to be careful now. “What about Yelena?”

“She’s done,” Steve said curtly. “She’s worked her last day in this house. She just makes you worse.”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. It was exactly what you feared.

“You can watch television but I have your phone,” Steve continued. “And your laptop is downstairs.”

And he was cutting you off from the rest of the world, from any support. Tears streamed from your eyes. Some from regret, most from anger. You blinked them back as you considered the weeks ahead.

And what you’d done to Yelena. What if losing this job put her in danger? What if Hansen got to her?

“When I come back, we will get to work on starting a family,” he informed you. “Just maybe you’ll be more grateful by then.”

“Or I’ll hate you.”

Steve shook his head, marching for the door of the bedroom you’d been sharing. “I’ll find another place to sleep in the meantime.”

“I’m sure you will,” you said through your tears. Visions of him with Kat flashed in your mind, threatening to break you.

And with that Steve marched out of the room. You heard the lock turn a beat later.

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[hereticpriest]

OMMMG OKAY hope this is okay for you and i hope you're doing amazing :D

so, i was wondering if you could write something for obi wan and preferably a female reader who has tattoos (body modifications, from the list) like she's a fellow jedi with him in the temple, they maybe were intimate, but obi wan couldn't really focus on her tattoos and now in the aftermath he can, like she has a lot of tattoos and obi wan really takes his time to take a look at them and placing soft kisses everywhere.

this is all over the place, hope you can work with this, if you have any questions send me a dm. 🥰

Alright hun, I hope you enjoy it! Tattoos are based on some dm convo, but you can imagine them differently if I didn't get the right tone. I hope this is what you were looking for!

Sweat cools on your skin as you lay panting atop sheets that aren’t your own, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. You stretch languidly, back arched, arms above your head with a yawn that is admittedly less than attractive. A soft laugh sounds beside you, and you hum inquisitively, turning your head slowly to look at the man stretched out beside you. Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Master on the Jedi Council and one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen in your entire life. His strawberry blond hair, usually so well groomed, is now a mess and sticking up in every direction. His cheeks are ruddy, freckles showing even more somehow when he’s this flush and well-fucked. His eyes are bright, the blue of them akin to the sky on a day filled with sunshine and warmth on any planet less air-polluted than Coruscant, and the corners are crinkled with crows feet from a life well lived. When he looks at you, you don’t see any of the regret or shame you might’ve imagined considering you’re not exactly meant to be cavorting with each other. Instead, his gaze is fond and filled with heat, though you’re unsure if it’s leftover from your recent coupling, or just the look a man has when he’s thoroughly known a woman.

You instinctively smush your hand against his face to hide from his affectionate looks, and he laughs, grabbing your arm so you can’t escape him. His lips trace up over your palm to your wrist, which he nips affectionately, his eyes warm on yours. They widen quite suddenly, and you raise an eyebrow as he pulls away to examine your arm, twisting it before his eyes as far as the joint can roll.

“Oh hello. How did I miss these?” He asks, his voice playfully curious as he trails his fingers over the intricate tattoos on your arms. On the right, a Medusa-themed sleeve that you were particularly proud of. On the left, a deer pranced upon your bicep while a wolf howled upon your forearm. You scoff at him, trying to pull your arm loose, though he tightens his grip.

“Are you blind, Obi-Wan?” You ask him incredulously, “Or was I simply not worth the attention when you could simply rut into me like a beast?”

He rolls atop you easily, pinning your arms to the pillow beneath your head while he settles his hips between your thighs, “I knew you had tattoos, dearest, I simply didn’t see what they portrayed. I’m not a total imbecile. And I don’t think name calling is in order, since this ‘beast’ just made you come thrice without a single complaint from you, dear.”

You raise your eyebrows, letting out a doubtful hum, and he snorts as he bends to steal a kiss.

“Alright, cheeky. Let me take a good look now that I’ve got the time, and you aren’t tearing my back to shreds for being too slow.”

You scoff, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment as you’re well aware he’s entirely right. If anyone was at fault for him not having the time to fully appreciate your nude form, it was you. Every time his lips parted from yours or your skin, you’d whine up a storm. When he slowed for any reason, you’d dug your nails into his back until he got back to it. You’re sure the poor man is covered in scratches, and you suddenly feel guilty, until he bites your lower lip, “Enough, kitten, your claws didn’t hurt me that badly. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

Well!

You tighten your thighs around his hips, and he chuckles, smoothing his hand over the ink on your stomach.

“No, let me have a look. I’ll play with you afterwards.” he promises dismissively, sliding his palms down from your chest to your hips, then walking his fingers back up over the lines of ink that make up the Vitruvian Man atop the stoic sphinxes on your hipbones. As he traces higher, his fingers pause to pinch your nipples as he examines the depiction of the Creation of Adam across your heaving chest. Your ribs into your back are equally covered in art depicting the birth and early years of science, and Obi-Wan pauses to press his lips along the ink to feel the microscopic changes in texture under his lips.

“Look at you, sweetheart. Aren’t you a work of art?” He whispers, and you shiver, your head rolling back against the pillows, “I suppose, quite unlike a museum or art gallery, I have full permission to touch the artwork as much as I like, don’t I?”

A heady gasp leaves your lips, and you blink down at him as he nips at one of the sphinxes, “Again?” You ask hesitantly, having felt his hardness against you.

“Unless you’re quite spent, kitten. Do you need a nap?” He asks playfully, grinning as he kisses along the swell of your stomach.

“Gods, you’re such a fucking tease. Hurry up, you motormouth.”

He snorts.

“Very well, kitten. I’ll put my… ‘motormouth’, as it were, to better uses, shall I?”

You don’t reply, instead just grabbing a fistful of his hair and pushing his face down while he laughs, gleeful in his victory of making you lose control.

[anitoko-17294]

some fun facts about Bitter Cacao Cookie (Aka, Fallen-hero!Dark Cacao Cookie)

@xaytheloser @rosejigglypuff76

Providing you both some more of the goods

His outfit is a reference to Our Lady of Sorrow, a catholic devotion and popular religious theme (Kinda fitting since Bitter Cacao is the beast of sorrow)

He has never actually done anything to harm his kingdom directly, but rather chooses to do so indirectly in order to not draw attention to himself (And yes, this has failed), one these methods of attacking his kingdom includes sending out vines covered with purple flowers that, if you made the mistake of smelling them, you too would feel an endless need to mourn

See that crescent-shaped beauty mark on Bitter Cacao's cheek? This is actually based off a headcanon I have that he had been connected to Moonlight Cookie back when he was known as Dark Cacao Cookie (And yes, Moonlight Cookie is aware of what happened to Dark Cacao, and even to this day, she is hellbent on bringing him out of his anguish-induced stupor)

His senses are sharper than usual (His hearing in particular to be more specific), so even a sudden loud noise is enough to trigger a crying jab in the king

His sense of self-care? Besides showering, his sense of self care is basically non-existent

BONUS: The statuses of the other dark cacaoians (And those who are aware of the situation)

Snowberry Cookie (Oc of mine): Yes, she still loves him, even after he made (multiple) attempts to plunge the kingdom into a literal version of the Great Depression. She tries to find normalcy in her and her husband's usual routine, even if it does mean having to be given stares of concern from the kingdom's citizens. She’s also the one who always reminds Bitter Cacao to take care of himself since he tends to forget about his own health psychically and mentally even before he became a beast

Licorice Cookie (I’m just gonna assume he lives there): Keeps an eye on the kingdom's walls (Along with calming the Licorice Monsters down if they start getting too restless as Bitter Cacao is incredibly sensitive to loud noises). Keep in mind that he’s doing this mostly out of pity for the king, as well as the fact that he had left the Cookies of Darkness alongside Affagato after hearing about the status of the kingdom (Spoiler alert: It’s not good, AT ALL)

Affagato Cookie: As per mentioned, he too had left the cookies of darkness to return to the Dark Cacao Kingdom because again, kingdom wasn’t exactly in good spirits. He’s not liked AT ALL by the other citizens, given how he had attempted to take over the kingdom, as well as nearly screwing the Creme republic over. He does at least manage to keep in contact with Cream Unicorn Cookie, so at least he’s not totally alone. He also tries to help out the kingdom by attempting to cheer the king up, and though his attempts rarely succeed, when they do, he swears that he can see the tiniest smile appear on Bitter Cacao's face

Milk Cookie (His tribe lives near the Dark Cacao kingdom territory, so it technically counts): He tries to be optimistic, but with the fact that Bitter Cacao had plunged the entire Dark Cacao Kingdom into a literal Great Depression, alongside the so-called "disappearance" of Dark Choco Cookie, he's not exactly in good spirits, though he wouldn’t ever admit so

Espresso Cookie (They’re an ancestor to the coffee tribe, so again, it counts): She had initially trekked to the dark cacao kingdom to see their ancestors (Aka, the coffee tribe), but decided to stay in the kingdom in order to find a way to bring Bitter Cacao out of his anguish-induced stupor. They stay with Affagato cookie (They’re basically roommates)

Also, if anyone asks, I hc that Espresso is a transwoman who uses she/they

Cocoa Cookie (She’s technically a cacaoian): She actually wasn’t aware about what was going on until a relative who lived in the kingdom gave her the news, and to put it mildly, she’s a nervous wreck about the ordeal

Mint Choco Cookie: He tries not to let the stress of the situation in his home kingdom get the better of him, but that’s easier said than done

Caramel Arrow Cookie: She's often quoted as the mom of the royal family, as she, alongside Snowberry Cookid, are often the ones who constantly pesters Bitter Cacao to take care of himself, with C. Arrow even resorting to dragging him to bed or the dinner table if she has to

Crunchy Chip Cookie: …he doesn’t like to talk about it

Stormbringer Cookie: She honestly didn’t even know about the situation in the dark cacao kingdom at first until she smelled one of the sorrow flowers by accident and wouldn’t stop crying for DAYS. She often tries to help the kingdom by giving travelers a stern warning about the sorrow flowers, as well as often trying to cheer up Bitter Cacao anytime he visits the Chococake tower by offering him Cotten candy clouds

Dark Choco Cookie: ………lets just say you don’t want to know

[positivelybeastly]

Hey again, since you've once again brought up the idea of Hank and fatherhood, thought I'd try again to bring up his romantic history ( first comes love then comes marriage, Yada Yada and all that)

For a guy so down on himself and his appearance his got a pretty good dating history, and that's not even counting the people he's been teased with that the writers haven't pulled the trigger with yet

* cough*wonderman* cough*

How do you think Hanks romantic history in comics reflects on him as a romantic partner, both good and bad?

It's not my fault Hank's got such dad energy that people want to talk about how good of a father he'd make all the time. ;)

So, I think that Hank's romantic history is. Interesting. Because there's the surface level perception of Hank, and then there's the actuality of Hank as a romantic partner.

The surface level is largely dictated by the only non-comics source that ever bothered to give him a romance (no, I emphatically do not count the Mystique bullshit from the movies), which was the 90s animated series and the continuation of that theme in '97 this year.

Yep, it's time to talk about Carly Crocker!

Now, Carly is a completely original creation for the 90s show, and she doesn't quite fit any of the archetypes of Hank's other notable comics paramours, so I'd hazard a guess that they just kinda freestyled it here because, well, Hank's other romantic partners up to this point (Vera Cantor and Trish Tilby) wouldn't have fit the interracial romance/literal Beauty and the Beast angle that this episode is going for.

Carly's cute! I like her dynamic with Hank. They're very soft and tender with one another - she's not what I'd call frightfully complex, but she's a good woman with a nice dynamic that tugs at the heart strings a little, and especially given that the original 90s cartoon was aimed at kids, I feel like this is the right level of romantic interest to give a similarly relatively un-complex version of Beast.

Neither of them have any real negative qualities because if they did, well, it would detract from the tragedy of their denied romance and the unfairness of it all. It's very clear that the makers of the show want you to come away from this thinking that it's complete bullshit that Hank and Carly can't be together because other people are so small minded, and that would be muddied if Carly was, idk, kinda rude, or if we more faithfully transcribed some of Hank's neuroses to screen. So instead, it's very idealised.

This is where a lot of people get their idea of what Beast is like. He is a perfect saint who literally cures the blind on his time off from being a superhero, and his paramour is an angelic blind woman who is completely free from prejudice or rough edges. I think it's fine for what the show is going for, but it's not quite accurate to what Hank and his romantic history is like - to the point where I've seen some people (usually Redditors) say, UGHHHH, Beast was never the saint you think he was in the 90s cartoon, he's ALWAYS been morally grey, you fools! The fun blue uncle never existed in the comics!

And it's like, my guy. Yeah, the 90s show embellished a little bit, but this is not a million miles away from who Hank is. He's simplified, but Hank was absolutely a fun blue uncle jokester with a heart of gold for most of his existence. Maybe it wasn't exactly who he was in the comics, but neither is he what certain later writers think he is.

But. I digress.

We do, of course, have the '97 romance to consider, but we'll get to that, because that's a lot to unpack . . .

Comics!

Vera Cantor!

Ugh.

So, like . . . teenage Hank is just obnoxious. I don't enjoy him, tbh. He occasionally has good lines, but I'm basically just sitting around flicking his annoying head like

But in this instance, the 'do something' is turn blue. He's so much less obnoxious and annoying when he's blue . . .

Even filtering out the 60s misogyny, which isn't a particularly interesting flaw to try and give Hank, he's just not a great romantic partner because he's too stuffy and bookish. He's inattentive to Vera's needs and it really does read like he's only here because, well, it's something to do and Bobby needs a wingman. Vera states that she likes Hank because he's refined, which I suppose is true enough, but that's not enough to build anything more than a flirtation out of, tbh.

He's just. Not ready yet, for a fulfilling romance. The stuffiness and the blowhard vocabulary are all a smokescreen for a lot of insecurity, and that's just not someone who's ready to have a relationship.

Then again, when has that ever stopped a teenager?

They survive for longer than they should have done, honestly, given that Hank and Bobby are literally ALWAYS being called away to do X-Men things, which naturally puts a damper on dates, and they're on decent enough terms when she shows up again in Amazing Adventures, needing his help in dealing with Mimic's whole deal in Incredible Hulk.

It's a comic book romance (derogatory). It is what it is. Not really all that complex, not a lot to write home about.

Where it gets interesting is when J.M. DeMatteis enters the picture.

There's something very . . . performative, about Hank's romance with Vera, under DeMatteis. And I don't say that analytically, I mean that completely, utterly literally.

Silence. Uncertainty.

Guys, if I have to tell you that this is a bad foundation for a relationship, then I'm worried for you and your significant others. You can't be with someone because they're safe. That's part of a good reason to be with someone, but if you look at someone, and the best you can think of when you look at them is, you remind me of when my personal life was a little less scary because it was being dictated by a stern Professor Xavier, that's. Probably a sign???

It's also not great that Vera hasn't discovered feminist literature yet, so she keeps falling for being lovebombed because Hank is a bad boyfriend.

And this scene is just a big fuckin' WOOF.

Kid? Is that . . . really how you want to talk to your girlfriend, Hank?

Like . . . in the end, this is not the worst relationship in the world. Hank, when he's around, is charming. He's a good man. He writes good poetry, he'll take you dancing, he's handsome, he's great in bed, and he's a goddamn superhero. He is a fundamentally good man.

But.

He is inconsistent. He is prone to making decisions without consulting you. He is prone to showboating and revelling in attention from his fans because he has self-esteem issues. And, in the end? He's just not that into you, Vera. The base problem is still kind of the same - he's immature. He hasn't grown up yet. He's working on it! He's showing some self-awareness! But it's gonna be a bit before he's really good for anything beyond a fling.

Thankfully, Vera grew up and out of it quickly. Good for her!

The fact that they're still friendly means Hank didn't completely fuck this one up. I think both of them realise they had a lot of growing up to do, and I think that's the kind of sin you forgive people for a lot more when they're actually working on it, which Hank did.

Now, let's compare and contrast . . . with Jennifer Nyles.

I fucking love Jen.

Introduced in 1991's Marvel Presents as a flashback character who was Hank's first proper girlfriend (there's a character called Mindy that appears to have been a less serious relationship before Jen), Jennifer is a clever clogs like Hank, and even more feisty.

Hank remarks multiple times that if it hadn't been for his choice to join the X-Men, he likely would have stayed with Jen for the rest of his life, and I can see it. In a world where Hank didn't go with the X-Men, he lives a quiet, happy life with Jen in Illinois. Maybe he wins a Nobel Prize for biophysics. They have kids. They're good.

But, instead, Xavier wipes her mind of Hank's existence, and it shifts her entire world's axis - she commits her genius to the task of working out what the gap in his mind is, and becomes an expert in the field of techno-organic cybernetics.

As you do.

They find each other again. They have their moments together. And then, because Hank is a superhero, and they live dangerous lives, and Jen is reckless enough to get involved in dangerous endeavours to try and work out what was stolen from her, she nearly dies.

Nearly.

Hank and Jen are incredibly compatible, to be honest. They're a great match, and it's interesting to compare her to Vera, who is identified as a librarian, an 'intelligent' profession, but whom Hank seems disinterested in, whereas Jen, who is explicitly on Hank's level, enraptures him, and in the end, he's forced to let her go for her safety.

In the end, Hank doesn't want someone who'll just hold his hand, he wants someone who can challenge him intellectually, someone who will hold him to account, who can match his wit, and Vera . . . can't.

Not really.

It's partly a foible of when they met, partly a case of Vera being who she is and Hank who he is, but in the end, it all comes down to how Vera reacted when she received those flowers and poetry. She folded. She was charmed. She fell for Hank's charming exterior. And that's. Kinda. Not interesting to him? I don't even think he realises that's what's going on, but it is what happened. She showed him that she would put up with his shenanigans, and that's not what Hank wants. Not really.

You could almost see it as a game that Hank plays, a challenge to see if you can scratch the surface and get at who he really is, under the surface, if you're dedicated to getting at him. Maybe that's unfair of him to do, but again, I don't think it's something he even realises he's doing. He has walls up for a reason, and if you break through them, then you clearly want him - he can believe that, because you just fought him, to get to him. It all comes back to that insecurity . . .

It's also worth noting here that Hank and Jen have another encounter in X-Men Unlimited vol. 2 #10, in a way that contradicts Marvel Presents. It's hard to reconcile, since she remembers Hank here when she shouldn't, but I like both stories too much to really fight over which one I have as canon, so I kinda just don't think about it too much.

"What would you think of me if I was to tell you how terrified I am of everything right now?"

"You've never been scared of anything in your life. I think we should both be brave and go take a look at what might be hiding in the cemetery."

That touch, that tenderness . . . ouahhghhhh . . . the timelines are screwy, and these are all written years apart from one another, but I do think it's significant that Hank spends entire issues of Amazing Adventures and Incredible Hulk hiding his beastly appearance from Vera under a mask, and yet, he willingly unwraps his bandages for Jen.

I think that tells you all about how willing he is to be his true self around Jen versus Vera. Hank literally says he doesn't know who he is sometimes around Vera, and she tells him, I'll help you find out if you let me. Helpful, but it doesn't fix the problem. Meanwhile, Hank is in the midst of the worst depression and fear of his life, reeling from his worst ever mistake, and Jen tells him that she'll be brave with him, and they'll confront the unknown together. He finds catharsis that way. Vera is supportive. Jennifer is proactive. Hank appreciates both, of course, but only through one can he achieve growth.

But, that's no real surprise, because . . . she's the one who tells him this, too . . .

Jennifer Nyles, you have, like, 9 appearances in all of Marvel Comics, but I would die for you. Genuinely one of the most influential characters in Hank's life, tbh.

. . . SPEAKING OF INFLUENTIAL CHARACTERS.

So . . . in the interests of a fair analysis, Trish is an interesting character. She believes in transparency, the democratisation of information, she is eminently heroic, she is self-sacrificing, she is intelligent, and she is strong.

You can see why Hank would be attracted to her. She can cut through the flip attitude and get at the Hank underneath. If we're going with the theory that Hank is playing keep away with his real feelings so that the only people who get close to him are the people who work to get there and he can believe that they're there for him, then Trish will succeed, because she'll put in the work.

But, the problem is, the Hank she met was human Hank, and even though she claims not to have a problem with the fur - and maybe, at this point, she doesn't! - we know that Hank's mutation becomes a problem for her.

Man, if I had a penny for every time I posted these panels, I wouldn't have to work.

But. In the interests of fairness. I have to point out that the problem here is not that Trish found it hard to get used to Hank's changing face - I've talked about this before, that it's understandable it would become an issue for her, in a romantic relationship, faces and bodies and the tangible aspects of a person are more important than ever - but that she thought this was in any way an acceptable way to do it.

Trish's insecurity made her lash out and 'fix' the problem in a way that saved her career and severed the tie that would drag her down. That is. An understandable reaction. It's hurtful, but in the end, she's prioritising herself, and that's. Understandable. That being said?

She had no fucking right to even try this.

Like. No??? You don't get to do this??? Fuck off??? You exited from his life in a way that saved your career and your reputation, you do not get to try and dip back in because you feel bad - and, I'm going to be incredibly fucking honest, that's if that's even the reason she's doing it. I suspect, maybe maliciously, but maybe not, that she had ulterior motives, because of past behaviour.

Because do you want to know what the worst thing Trish Tilby ever actually did was?

Meet Dennis Hogan. He is a mutant. His power is to look like a lizard. That's it. He also was infected by the Legacy Virus, making him incapable of controlling those transformations. He is a perfectly harmless, innocent young man, who is trying to find medical help for a disease that he had no way of avoiding contracting.

Trish Tilby is directly responsible for his death in a hate crime.

And Trish's response, when Hank brings this up?

Just throw the whole fucking woman out. She's septic garbage.

How does this reflect on Hank? It reflects badly that he ever took her back after this. After she sold out his fucking race, got an innocent man killed, deflected blame, physically assaulted her partner, and acted as if she, somehow, were the wronged party in this.

"If you were doing your job as well as I'm doing mine, there'd be one less dead mutant to mourn!"

Hank is currently working on a cure for the Legacy Virus, Patricia. Thank you for implying that he's not doing enough, while you sit around, hocking news stories that will tangibly improve your position at your job, that directly lead to hate crimes, because you have decided that people just NEED TO KNOW things that will make them act irresponsibly, hatefully, and cruelly.

Yes, there is such a thing as freedom of the press. There is such a thing as the democratisation of information.

And then there's this asshole, who was storming into Angel's hospital room with a camera, recording him with his ruined wings, chasing a story because it was the right thing to do, and damn the consequences.

Who cares who gets hurt, so long as Patricia Tilby gets her story?

It reflects badly on Hank that he ever went out with her. it reflects badly on Hank that he ever took her back. It reflects badly on everyone involved that they didn't have the heart to tell Hank to just fucking NOT.

This is who she is. It's who she's always been, since her first appearance, and it is stark how awful a woman she is.

The X-Men '97 adaptation of her was kind. Think about that for a moment. Think about the fact that turning this woman into a fucking Prime Sentinel couldn't make her do as much damage as she did with her own free will and bad judgement.

. . . Blech.

So, this is an incomplete history, because I've run out of images? Heh. If you want to hear more about Hank's other relationships, most notably Cecilia Reyes, Abigail Brand, and Simon Williams, feel free to send another ask, and I can link them together. Hope you found this informative and not as rambly as it feels.

Also, if I remember correctly, Cerebrocast is gonna do an episode on Trish Tilby soon? I have no intention of listening/watching to it, but keep all of this stuff in mind and see if it gets mentioned when that episode happens. Because that podcast's hate boner for Hank McCoy means I genuinely think they'll find a way to excuse Trish's poor behaviour just because it's Hank. It honestly wouldn't surprise me.